CA 50.7 Little Girl Lost (6 page)

Even more strange, there now appeared to be no other employees besides the three who worked the attendant's station on the second floor, two cafeteria employees, the Hancocks and their receptionist. What had happened to the other staff she'd seen when'd she come for her interview?

Finally, Mrs. Hancock directed her to the same classroom where Jenna had first met the children.

"They're waiting for you." The woman smiled but it was as fake as Jenna's ID. Maybe Jenna had read her wrong. Maybe there was nothing nice or kind about her.

After the woman had walked away, Jenna steeled herself for entering the classroom. Would
she
scream today? Jenna hoped not. Diamond had asked for her. Surely that meant she liked her, though the idea that some memory from seven years ago might surface was too much to hope for.

Particularly when Jenna couldn't say for sure just yet that this was her daughter.

She watched a moment longer through the large viewing window. Doubt and fear started to crowd in on her, but she pushed the feelings away. This little girl, this Diamond, looked so very much like Sophie. It could be her.

It had to be her.

Jenna couldn't let her emotions get the better of her. She had to do this right. Logic and strategy were essential. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped inside.

No one bothered to look up from their activities. Jenna walked slowly around the table and considered what each child had chosen for free time. Puzzles mostly. Word and number puzzles.

Jenna thought again of the people who, like her, had lost their children. Could these seven children really be the answered prayers of more than a half-dozen families? She watched the child the people here called Diamond, hoping to see some mannerism or gesture that would confirm she was her daughter.

Chances were she would remember nothing of her mother and father or of home. How many kids could remember as far back as three years old? Especially after a major trauma.

That would be hard to accept —Sophie not remembering anything. Jenna had kept her daughter's room exactly as it was. Not because she expected Sophie to use it when she came home, but because it held all the memories that perhaps seeing it, touching it, could evoke. Jenna's former friends had thought she was a little loony for keeping the room that way. None of them could understand the agony and desperation of losing a child, or the lengths she might take to get her child back. Not at all.

Though she tried not to show any preference since she was likely being watched, Jenna was drawn to the little dark-haired girl at the head of the table. She pulled up a chair and sat next to her. The child appeared completely absorbed in a word puzzle. The kind

where the words were hidden among rows and rows of letters going in nearly every direction. The thing made Jenna's eyes cross just looking at it.

Diamond made a soft sound of frustration. Jenna blinked and watched more closely as the child went over the letters she had circled and circled them again with her crayon. When she'd finished, she did it again.

What was she trying to spell out? Jenna studied the circled letters.

H...E...L...P...U...S...

The air fled from Jenna's lungs as her gaze collided with those blue eyes that were so very familiar to her.

Help us.

• Chapter Six
  

Chapter Six

May 4, 5:15 p.m.

Paul was waiting at the door when Jen parked in front of the duplex. When she made no immediate move to get out of the car he bounded down the steps to meet her. By the time he reached the driver's-side door she was climbing out. The fear and worry on her face shouted loud and clear that the day hadn't gone the way she'd hoped.

"What happened?" His fingers clenched to avoid reaching out to her. Damn, she looked so helpless.

"The children asked for help, Paul."

He'd imagined all sorts of horrors she might have witnessed or suffered today, but he hadn't anticipated that announcement. He took her by the arm. "Let's take a walk."

At this point he wasn't sure of anything. This situation was beginning to feel a lot bigger than some whack job snatching children or some facility trying to get away with unapproved testing. If his worries held any merit, Jen's temporary residence could be bugged. There was something big about to go down here, and Jen had been drawn into it for a reason.

Jen explained how right after lunch she'd been allowed into the classroom and Diamond, the little dark-haired girl she believed might be Sophie, had sent her a message in a remarkably covert manner.

"Each of the children did the same thing as I moved around the table to admire and praise their work."

"You're thinking the others followed her lead." Jen nodded adamantly. "Dr. Hancock mentioned that the other students look to her for guidance. I'm sure he had no idea that a rebellion was brewing. Something is wrong in that place, Paul."

The breeze whipped up, sending a discarded soda can rolling down the street. At the far end of the block a couple of teenagers played basketball. Otherwise, the neighborhood was quiet.

"Any new observations about the little girl?" He wanted to ask if she'd had the opportunity to check for the scar.

"I didn't really get a lot of time with the children. Dr. Hancock's head of research, Mrs. Hancock, had other plans for me."

"His wife?" That would make sense considering what Paul had learned today.

"Maybe. She wasn't exactly social. She looked so nice but she was actually really direct, almost pushy. I got the impression the children didn't like her and that the feeling was mutual."

"I have some news from the Colby Agency." He cupped her elbow and ushered her into a right turn toward the next block.

"Is this why we're out enjoying the spring weather?"

In that moment, Paul realized his desire to protect and shelter Jenna had kept him from seeing how strong she was. She wasn't just beautiful and kind and generous—a great wife and tireless mother. She was also smart and determined. "Dr. Hancock and his wife are under investigation. They have been for some time." He explained what Jim Colby had learned from his unnamed sources. "The latest update indicated something big will be going down at the institute any day now." This was where things were going to get sticky. "Jim and I both feel it would be a mistake for you to return to the institute tomorrow." He'd driven himself crazy with worry all day, walking the floors of her duplex, waiting for her return. He'd driven past the institute half a dozen times.

Jen stalled and turned to face him. "Are you kidding? You really expect me to back off now? I'm in the door. The children are responding to me. For some reason, maybe sheer desperation, they trust me. I have to go back. I can't let them down. If I don't show up, they may feel I've abandoned them."

"I can't protect you if you're inside that secure perimeter and I'm outside." Another day like this one and he'd be climbing the walls. "I can't let you take that risk."

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when he knew he'd screwed up. Her expression shifted from one of worry to one of frustration and no little bit of anger.

"This isn't about you, Paul. This is about a little girl who might be our missing daughter." She folded her arms over her chest. "It's about six other children who are in need of help for some reason I don't understand yet."

His misstep would require some serious damage control. "The feds are moving in, Jen, and the children will be taken care of. The Hancocks will likely be concerned only with saving themselves. I wouldn't be surprised if they're gone tomorrow. And we'll be here to get to the bottom of Diamond's real identity. We'll help make sure all the children find their way home. But we need to back off and give the feds the space to do their job."

Jen shoved her hair back from her face, braced her hands on her slim hips and squared her shoulders. "I will be at the institute at nine tomorrow morning as scheduled. If you have a problem with that, that's too bad. I'm through talking about this, Paul."

Before he could summon a way to make her see that he was on her side, she stepped around him and headed back to the duplex. The pound of the basketball against asphalt a few yards away and the competitive exchange between the two teens filtered back into his senses. Just went to show how little help his being here was to Jen. A whole team of thugs could have rushed them and he would have been too caught up in the conversation to notice before it was too late.

Somehow he had to find a way into the institute tomorrow, give her some backup. He knew better than to think for one second he could keep Jen away. Outside tying her up or locking her in the duplex, she was going. And so was he.

There were a couple of folks, besides the cops, who couldn't be turned away—not even from a prestigious institute. Fire and health inspectors.

All he needed was the proper ID.

Piece of cake.

May 4, 10:15 p.m.

Jenna sat on the closed toilet seat and stared at the photos: three-year-old Sophie before she was taken; and Diamond, the little girl at the clinic. Sophie's cheeks were full and round and rosy with baby happiness. Diamond's were less full, more sculpted, and the expression she wore lacked the sparkle that Sophie had shown every day of her sweet life. But the jawline and the nose were so similar. The eyes.. .and her coloring in general.

What was wrong with her? A mother should recognize her own child! This was unconscionable. What kind of mother was she?

Jenna stood, swiped at the tears with the backs of her hands. She had let her baby down seven years ago, and now she couldn't recognize her own daughter from someone else's, even though she and Diamond had been only inches apart today! Jenna stared at her reflection. The dark circles beneath her eyes.. .the weariness in her gaze. She felt like a shell. A nothing.

Because this was her fault. She should have protected her baby and none of this would ever have happened.

A rap on the door made her jump. How long had she been in here? Too long, obviously. "Jen, you okay?"

No, she wasn't okay. If she lived a thousand years she would never be okay. Her little girl was lost.

"I'll be out in a minute." Her voice sounded rusty and thick, but she didn't care. She wished she could close her eyes and make the time pass more quickly. She wanted to get back to the institute and to the children.. .to the little girl.

She couldn't hide in here all night. Maybe Paul had heard more news from his colleagues at the Colby Agency. She had to give him credit; the P.I. agency where he worked really appeared to be top-notch. She was happy for him. He deserved to have his life going in a better direction.

Readying herself for his scrutiny, she opened the door and exited the tiny bathroom. He waited not five feet away, and she forced a smile into place. "It's all yours."

When she moved across the room, he followed. She tucked the photos into the drawer of the bedside table. It was late. She should get ready for bed. Sleep probably wouldn't grace her with its presence, but at least she wouldn't be expected to carry on a conversation if she appeared to be sleeping.

She faced the man watching her so closely. "I think I'll just go to bed."

"You hardly ate anything." He gestured to the table where the leftovers from the meal he'd had delivered remained.

"I'm good." Food held no appeal to her anymore. She only ate what little she did because it was necessary for survival, and though sometimes she didn't care if she lived or not, now wasn't one of those times. She had hope.

"Can we talk for a minute?"

"Do you have news?" She hadn't heard him on the phone. But maybe he'd gone outside while she was in the bathroom.

"Not yet. I thought maybe we could talk about us."

This could be trouble. Talking about
us
usually meant talking about how
she
had gone over the edge. "All right, but let's keep it brief. I'm tired."

She opted to take a seat on the sofa rather than the bed. When she had settled, he sat down beside her. Jenna took a breath and waited for him to say whatever was on his mind.

"I have an offer for you."

Now there was an opening line she hadn't expected. "Okay." She clasped her hands in her lap. "I'll bite. What kind of offer?"

"I was wrong to leave you alone last year. You still needed me and I bailed." He exhaled a big breath and shook his head. "I'm sorry." He faced her then and she saw the misery in his eyes, something he'd never let her see before. "I should have stayed."

She wanted to be glad to hear those words, but she couldn't rightly say what she felt. Vindicated? Relieved? Angry? Maybe a little of all three. "What do you want me to say to that, Paul? That yes, you were wrong? That you should be sorry?" She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "You did what you thought you had to do, and so did I. I think

we're so far beyond
sorrys
and
should haves
and all that other redundant stuff. I want to focus on the now. The before hurts too much. And God only knows what the after will be like."

"Fair enough." He took her hand in his.

Startled at the move, her breath caught as the heat of his touch rushed through her hollow soul.

"You have my word that I will do whatever's necessary to learn the true identity of this little girl. And I will ensure that all the children at the institute are safe."

The shaking started deep inside her. "I appreciate the help."

"We will solve this puzzle together. And when we're done, we'll move forward together to try and find our daughter."

"But the divorce." Why would he suggest they do anything together? Didn't he want to move on with his life?

"Is not relevant to solving the mystery of our daughter's disappearance. The Colby Agency will help us. They've agreed to do whatever it takes." He shook his head again. "I should have asked them for help a year ago, but I was certain, using their resources, I could do it on my own. I believed that since I was the one who screwed up, I had to be the one to fix it. All this time, deep down I've been trying to find her, even as I chastised you for doing the same. I'm nothing but a hypocrite."